"Angie? Hi, it's me, Betts." Betts was on the phone with her cousin in Indianapolis.
"Hey, how are you?"
"I'm fine. Roy is good – he's coming to New York to see me more and more often! Samson's a little jealous, though." Betts patted her big cat, who was butting at the phone – he always got jealous when she talked on the phone. "How's life with you?"
"Same old, same old. Next week is the end of the school year, then I'm free. No more students, no more conferences. I'm free for three months!"
Betts took a sip of coffee. "That's sort of why I'm calling. Remember Coney Island, where we went to see the museum and the Ferris Wheel?"
"Well, yes. And the burlesque dancers, and the people you think are some kind of long-lost cousins. What were their names? Ben and …?"
"Ben and Sofie. Yes, that's the place. They're closing it down, did you hear?"
"No! Coney Island? But that's a piece of Americana! They can't close it down!"
"Well, not Coney Island, exactly, but Astroland – the amusement park, with the Cyclone, and the Ferris Wheel. They want to develop it into a big fancy place, with expensive condos. A lot of people in the area are demonstrating in a couple of weeks. How would you like to come to New York and demonstrate?"
"Condos? You're kidding! But that place is… historical. All that crazy carnival stuff – Dante's Inferno, and the rides – how can they close it?"
"So, do you want to come? You can stay with me."
"Yes, of course I do. Dad will want to come, too. Can you put him up too?"
"Sure." Betts loved the old man who had once been the strong man at the Carnivale where her grandparents, Libby and Jonesy, had worked. "He can have my spare room, if you don't mind the sofa bed."
"Of course. Hey, maybe we can get some other people who worked at the Carnivale to come too? Like that woman you talked to in New Orleans – the one who was the daughter of the bearded lady?"
"Marie DuVal. Yes, I'll call her. And Roy said a lot of people came to his grandfather's funeral, too. Maybe they'll come." Betts had first met her boyfriend when she contacted an old man who had been a roustie in the same Carnivale. "People who care about that era in American history should do something about this. Imagine – Coney Island becoming a condo development!"
Marie DuVal thought the demonstration was a great idea, and so did some of the others who had come to Charlie Osgood's funeral, once Roy called them and explained the situation. Andy Burley, grandson of another roustie, lived in New Jersey, and was enthusiastic. (Roy said his grandfather was apparently a real asshole, but Andy was an OK guy.)
A little woman, a dwarf, named Ann Edderson, was a doctor, and the daughter of Samson (the boss of the Carnivale, not Betts' cat). When Roy called her, she was indignant. "Carnivals gave people like me a chance to earn an independent living, and laid the groundwork for me to enter medicine. Of course I'll be there," she said.
People involved in the demonstration were making arrangements to put people up, but Angie, her dad Gabriel, and Roy would stay with Betts. It would be a full house for a day or two, in an apartment with only one bathroom, but they would manage.
The demonstration was scheduled for three o-clock in the afternoon. It was a hot day, very hot for so early in the summer.
The whole Carnivale group – fourteen people - met for lunch at a Russian restaurant in Brighton Beach, a subway stop from Coney Island. The restaurant was set up for big groups, eating big meals Russian style, and they welcomed the group, who were obviously new to Russian cooking.
When they arrived, their table was already laid with cold appetizers. Everybody had decided this would be an adventure, and Roy had ordered the "Russian Banquet." Plates of smoked fish, salads, and pickled vegetables were already laid out, colorful and appetizing, if a little intimidating.
The waiter explained a few of the dishes, and encouraged them to try anything.
"What's that?" Andy Burley asked.
"Eel salad," said the waiter.
The look on Andy's face was priceless, but he reached for the plate. "I like eel sushi," he explained.
The waiter was passing out the bottles of wine that came with the banquet menu. They noticed, though, that the other tables, filled with local Russians from Brighton Beach, were all drinking vodka. No wonder they all looked so happy!
The waiter left to get the next course, and Roy, Andy and Ann Ederson began pouring the wine and soda.
"A toast," Betts said. "To the Carnivale and all those who once traveled with it."
"To the Carnivale!" Everybody raised their glasses and paused a moment, thinking of their older relatives who were no longer with them.
There were a few moments of quiet, as everyone passed plates full of strange, colorful dishes, and served themselves. Some took large helpings, some took tiny spoonfuls, but most people tried something new and different.
A buzz of conversation started as people began introducing themselves to their neighbors.
"It's so good to see you again, Uncle Gabriel," Betts said to the gentle old man who was Angie's father.
"It's good to see you, too, Elizabeth," he said. "It's a good thing you're doing, bringing people together for this. It reminds me so much of the old days. Of course, we didn't eat like this then – we were lucky if we could get eggs for breakfast! Except for Lodz – he always seemed to eat well. And drink well!"
"He was the psychic, right?" Betts was struggling to keep all the names straight. "The one who was the friend of the bearded lady?"
"Friend. Yes – very tactful of you!" Gabriel smiled at her.
"And Ben killed him."
"What?" Angie turned to stare at her cousin.
"Didn't I tell you? Marie told me that Ben killed Lodz, her mother's…friend. Isn't that right, Marie?"
"That's what mama told me, yes. Nobody would admit it to begin with, though – they just pretended he had walked away in the middle of the night. Imagine that – a blind man just walking away and leaving his money and belongings. Ann, do you know anything about it? Mama said Samson covered up the murder."
Ann Edderson looked doubtful. "I can't imagine Daddy doing something like that. But he really didn't talk about that time. I always had the feeling something happened, and he didn't want to talk about it."
Angie asked, "Dad, were carnivals in the 30s always like this? Murder, love affairs, scandal?"
Gabriel smiled again. "Not all of them. Though it was kind of volatile. People lived together, worked together, sometimes died together. A lot of things happened. One day we came across the people from another carnival. Their ten-in-one had burned, and they were just walking on the road, elephant and all."
"Elephant?" Angie burst out laughing.
"Yes, it was a really nice elephant, too. Very friendly."
Laughter around the table. "A friendly elephant!"
Angie sobered. "Dad, did Ben really kill Lodz?"
"Lila said he did. If he did, it was to save my mother's life, so I can't really fault him for it."
Betts was curious now. "How? Did Lodz attack your mother or something?"
"No, it was nothing like that. Ma was bitten by a snake, and she…well, I think she died. Ben wouldn't let anyone in. He told me to guard her trailer, and went away for hours. Then, when he came back, he went straight to Management's trailer. A while later, I saw him and Samson load a big bundle on a truck. It could have been a body, I suppose, but ma was awake then, so I went in to see her. Later, we heard Lodz was missing."
The waiter chose that moment to show up with hot appetizers – garlicky potatoes, cheese patties, and little crepes with red caviar, and they took a break from conversation to taste the exotic dishes.
"These little patties are delicious!" Betts munched a second piece.
"I'm not so sure about these vegetables," Roy grumbled. "I don't even know what they were before they were pickled."
"This smoked fish reminds me of Lodz, too." said Gabriel. "He loved Russian food. He and Lila knew people on the circuit – they used to go off and come back with a feast of exotic food. Lila would slip some of it to Ma for us."
"I thought you didn't have enough money for good food?" Betts was puzzled.
"We didn't. Lodz did. He had a stash of money from his days with Scudder."
More puzzled looks. "Scudder?"
"In Europe, Lodz worked with a partner, Scudder, who was psychic. Ma said, when they broke up, Scudder gave him the psychic power."
"How could that be possible?"
"Scudder wasn't an ordinary man. He had some strange powers, Ma said. He was Ben's father, you know."
"Your mother knew him?"
"Er …yes. Quite well, I believe. He worked for the Carnivale. He saved ma's life once, when she was bitten by a snake. They were…friends.
Betts whispered to Roy, "His mother slept with this Scudder and his son?"
"Ssshh. Have some more wine." He winked at her.
From down the table, Ann said, "Daddy said both Scudder and Ben were trouble. Lots of trouble. The Carnivale would have been better off if they'd never heard of them, he said. Though I'm not sure he meant it. He always looked kind of strange when Ben's name was mentioned. Like there was something important, but he would never say what. Could someone pass me that tongue?"
"Tongue? Eww!" This one Betts found a little creepy.
"Yes, it's delicious. Didn't you ever eat tongue? You can buy it in supermarkets."
"But it's…tongue!"
"So? People are too picky these days." Ann was sixty-ish, Betts realized. "If you're going to eat an animal, you should make use of every part of it. Organ meats are good for you – loaded with vitamins, and they taste good, too. You eat liver, don't you?"
"Well, yes. But tongue?"
"Try some."
Hesitatingly, Betts tasted a tiny piece. It wasn't bad, she realized. Kind of a funny texture, but good flavor. She had come a long way in recent months, she realized. Ever since that first day at Coney Island, she had been happier, more open to new experiences, ever since that day she had looked into the eyes of her maybe-distant-relative Ben. Would she have even gone into a restaurant like this a year ago? Probably not. She really had changed.
"Dad does that, too," Angie said, winking at her father. "He won't talk about Ben, or Sofie either, after a certain point."
"What point?" Betts' ears pricked up. "What happened?" She looked at Gabriel, waiting for an answer.
"Nothing. Sofie left the Carnivale, and Ben …Ben got hurt."
"You mean hurt emotionally, or hurt physically?"
"Both, I think. But especially physically. The Carnivale broke up after that. Here's the waiter with our main dishes."
"Are you changing the subject?" Angie, knowing her father, laughed.
"I'm not…he is. That's mine – the stuffed chicken leg. It looks delicious."
Conversation stopped again as the waiter distributed food, amid appreciative murmurs. No doubt about it, Russian food could be really good, Betts thought. Even tongue.
Everybody tucked in with enthusiasm, and Roy poured some more wine.
"It's a good thing it's well air-conditioned in here," Betts said. "With all this food, and the wine, we need all the cool air we can get."
"One of the great things about the past fifty years," Gabriel said. "Air conditioning!"
"No air conditioning in the Carnivale, Uncle Gabriel?"
"Oh, no! We were lucky if we got a cool breeze. People carried fans with them in those days – little folding ones. Lila had a whole collection. Real pretty ones."
"Hadn't air conditioning been invented yet?"
"It had, but not for a traveling Carnivale with a portable generator. We barely had enough power to handle the rides and lights. You wouldn't believe how much power those lights took."
"What happened to all that stuff? The lights and rides?"
"Who knows? I heard somebody bought the lights for Christmas lights. They must have cost a fortune to run, though."
"Carousel horses are worth money now," mused Angie.
"Not ours. They were all beat up and singed. Especially after…"
"After what, Uncle Gabriel?"
"It doesn't matter...what's for dessert?"
"There he goes again, changing the subject!" Angie looked exasperated.
"What are you guys talking about?" Andy Burley, at the other end of the table, asked.
"What happened to the Carnivale," Betts answered.
"You mean the fire?"
"Fire? What fire?" Angie looked at her father.
"The place burned," Andy answered. "Granddad talked about it sometimes when he was old and confused."
"No it didn't." Gabriel said firmly. "That was the other one – the one we met on the highway. The Daily Brothers."
"The one with the elephant?" Andy looked confused himself. "Maybe Granddad had them mixed up."
"Right. The Daily Brothers burned the place to the ground for the insurance. Disappeared in the middle of the night and left everyone high and dry."
Ann Edderson said, "Daddy told me that was a story that was put out to cover up their murder."
"Another murder?" Betts couldn't believe her ears.
"That's what he said," Ann answered. "But he said he didn't know any more about it than that."
Gabriel chuckled. "Those were the days!"
"Dad, I really think you mean that!"
"Well, not the murders, of course. But we were sure alive then. It was hard work, and not much to eat, but we were alive. Especially after Ben arrived."
"Dad, you don't talk much about your childhood…or anything much before Ben arrived. What do you remember?"
"Honestly, not much. Things changed after Ben came – after he healed my arm. Everything became clearer – I could remember stuff, keep track of things. Before that, I don't know. It was different. Maybe I was different."
Once more the waiter interrupted, this time with dessert – fruit and crepes with a delicious sauce, and coffee and tea. Everybody tucked in with gusto.
The conversation turned to the Coney Island development. Angie and Betts told the group about their earlier visit – the sideshows and burlesque dancers.
"Do you know I was born here?" Gabriel got their attention.
"Really? You never told me that," said Angie.
"Well, I was actually born in Brooklyn, not technically Coney Island. Ma was in a carnival visiting for the summer. But Coney Island saved my life."
"Coney Island? How?" Betts was curious now.
"I was born prematurely. In those days, preemies didn't survive. But the man who invented incubators for premature babies – Dr. Couney – had built a laboratory here, and that's where I spent the first few weeks of my life."
"Oh, so it wasn't, like, a sideshow or anything?"
"Well, actually it was. He displayed the incubators and babies and charged money. "
"What? He actually charged people to see premature babies?" Angie was shocked.
"He put the money back into more incubators. The money he made that way saved a lot of lives. I was one of them. So I was a carnie from the day I was born."
"Wow. That's incredible." Betts sat back in her chair and shook her head, then did a double-take as she saw the clock at the restaurant entrance.
"Hey! It's two-thirty, and the demonstration starts at three. We have to go. It's too far to walk in heat like this – we'll get a cab."
"Several cabs," said Angie. "Let's get the check."
At Coney Island, they all piled out of the cabs and walked up to the boardwalk where the demonstration was to take place. People had gathered already, with signs and banners.
"Dad? Are you OK?" Angie looked at her father in concern as he steadied himself against the railing.
"Sure. Just feeling my age a little. But you know, I think I'll pass on standing in this sun for a while. I'm going to sit under the shelter and watch the gulls and the boats while you young people save Coney Island."
Angie watched her father walk over to the benches and sit on a wooden bench with his back to them, looking out over the water. He was so strong and vital, she realized, that she forgot he was in his nineties. (He had married late, to a much younger woman, Bett's aunt, who had stayed home for this trip.)
She shrugged off her momentary concern, and hurried after the others, who were collecting signs and banners, and watching the small platform, where a microphone was being set up. The press were gathering too, with dish-equipped vans and microphones on long rods. There was even a helicopter hovering above.
The passion of the speakers was infectious, and it was a while before Angie thought to check on her father. He was fine, though – even from a distance, she could see he was involved in a conversation. A young couple had sat down on the bench on either side of him, and she could see from his body language that he was relaxed and enjoying the chat.
"Angie!" Betts waved to her. A reporter – a tall guy in a nice jacket and a vaguely familiar face – was asking what Betts knew about the history of Coney Island.
"This is my cousin Angie. Her father was born here. Coney Island saved his life."
"Really? How?" The reporter's eyes lit up at the prospect of a human interest angle to the coverage of the demonstrations."
"He was a premature baby." Angie explained about the incubator exhibit.
"Could I meet him? Where does he live?"
"Actually, he's right over there." Angie indicated her father, still sitting comfortably under the sun shelter, alone now. "Come on. I'll introduce you."
"Dad?" Angie hurried up to her father. "There's some press here who would like to talk to you."
Gabriel didn't respond. He just stared out to sea, with a little smile on his face.
Angie touched his arm, then hesitated. "Dad? Dad?"
The reporter said, with tension in his voice, "Don't touch him."
Angie looked puzzled, then alarmed. "Dad?"
Betts, following close behind, said. "Angie, hon? I think he's dead."
Angie froze. "Daddy?" She looked again. It was true. Gabriel's body was still sitting on the bench, smiling gently. But Gabriel was gone.
Angie reeled and steadied herself against the railing. The reporter took her arm gently. "Why don't you sit over here? We'll call 911 for you."
Betts wondered for a moment if he was taking advantage of the situation. It was a great news story for them – a man whose life had been saved as a baby by Coney Island, dies on the boardwalk on the day of a demonstration to save the amusement park. But it seemed that the guy was really concerned over Angie. Betts turned away, to lean on the railing and gather her thoughts.
"Betts…"
She turned, to find herself face to face with a couple she recognized. It was her maybe-distant-cousin Ben and his wife Sofie. They were smiling gently – much the same way Gabriel had been when he died.
"Gabe's fine, Betts. He's just moved on. He's happy."
"But you…what are you doing here? You were in Vegas, too, when Charlie Osgood died. What are you? Why are you here?"
"It's all right, Betts. We're just here to help."
"Help? Help what? Did you do something to him?"
"Betts? What's happening?" Roy had caught up to them and was looking around.
"Oh Roy – Uncle Gabriel's dead." Roy put his arms around her, and drew her close, and she felt a huge sense of relief at being able to share the burden of Gabriel's death. She leaned against him for a moment, then remembered Ben and Sofie.
"Wait – they're here." She turned to where the couple had been standing. They were gone.
"Who?"
"Ben and Sofie."
"Who?"
"Remember, the two people…Never mind. I'll tell you later."
Betts and Roy, holding hands, went to sit with Angie. They watched the EMTs arrive and take charge of Gabriel's body, and supported her as she made the terrible phone call to her mother.
For Betts, it all seemed dreamlike. One part of her was shocked at the sudden death. Another part was relieved that her beloved uncle had gone quickly and painlessly. And yet another part of her wondered, and would keep on wondering, about Ben and Sofie.
What were they doing there? Why were they also present when Charlie Osgood died? Had they hastened their deaths? Were they even real? Were they some kind of angels of death? And if real, and if they were the original Ben and Sofie, how could they possibly still be young and healthy?
There was more here than she knew, she was sure. More about the Carnivale, and more about Ben and Sofie. When the funeral was over, she determined to find out.